Prince's Son of Scandal

“It’s a rookie move to get involved. Better to ignore them. Trust me.”

He waited until they had left to ask Trella, “Why were you being so contentious with Ramon?”

“I wasn’t. That’s how we communicate.” The passing streetlights flicked over her stoic expression.

“I thought you might bring on an attack.”

“No.” She sounded petulant. “We fight like that all the time. It’s fine.”

“It wasn’t because you’re angry with me?”

Silence, then, “I’m not angry. I’m hurt.”

He should have left it there, but said, “Either way, you should take it out on me, not him.” Punish me. He couldn’t stand the guilt he was carrying.

“I’d rather fight with Ramon.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “I know he won’t let me win. Any points I score, I’ve earned. It builds my confidence. And no matter what I say, he’ll still love me. I don’t have that kind of trust with you.”

Be careful what you wish for, Xavier thought, flayed to the bone. He didn’t speak of it again.

* * *

Trella was a dam filled to the brim, gates stuck. When Xavier bowed out of joining Ramon and his racing friends at a sports bar the next evening, the pressure inside her climbed a notch higher.

“The bar isn’t Kasim’s thing, either. I invited him to come over with Gili for the evening after they see Mama. Cinnia wants to give the girls a quiet night so she’s staying in.” Trella desperately needed time with her sister. “Do you mind?”

“You’re not going clubbing with the bridal party? I’ll stay with Tyrol.”

“Isidora will have enough paparazzi as it is. If Gili and I went? We’re doing her a favor staying away.”

“I see. Of course. Invite them. That’s fine.” They were being exceedingly agreeable and polite since she’d admitted to her hurt feelings last night. It was horrible. She kept wondering how she would endure two more months of this. A lifetime, really. Would it be worse or better when they divorced and lived apart?

She was so caught up in her own turmoil, she completely forgot that Xavier had met Gili before. Gili hadn’t, the darling. She rushed him when she arrived, taking both his hands to say beseechingly, “I’m so glad we have this chance to clear the air. I can’t imagine what you thought of me in Berlin. You must have been so shocked. But I hope we can be friends because I already adore your son.”

Her sister’s warmth could melt glaciers and Xavier’s expression eased in a blink. “It’s already forgotten,” he assured with his patented charm.

Trella felt a stab of jealousy. Why couldn’t she win him over as easily?

Gili turned to her then, concern in her eyes, because of course she had picked up on Trella’s distress. At the same time, something glowed from her like a beacon, a happiness so bright, it blinded.

Oh, Gili. Anytime Trella thought she couldn’t survive whatever anguish was gripping her, her twin found a way to lift her out of it. Smiling tearily, she hugged her pregnant sister tight.

* * *

Xavier was glad to have an evening with the King of Zhamair. Asking Kasim about a complex situation in one of his neighboring countries was a welcome distraction from his struggle between duty and desire. Between wanting to mend fences with Trella and letting her bruised feelings keep her at a distance.

Thirty minutes in, he realized the women hadn’t come back from fetching Tyrol. “Did we bore them? I’ll find—”

“Please let them be,” Kasim said. “She needs time with her sister.”

“Which one?” Xavier asked dryly, hoping Trella wasn’t shedding tears over him.

“A fair question.” Kasim took up his drink. “Their interdependence takes getting used to, doesn’t it? But this...” He chucked his chin toward the ceiling, where the women were likely in Trella’s room. “She was bursting at the seams.”

“Pregnant?” A surprise rush went through Xavier. He was astonished to realize he was pleased for the couple. Why? It had nothing to do with him.

Except that he knew how good it felt to have a child. It struck him then how important Tyrol had become to him. Not because he secured Elazar’s future, but because Tyrol was... Tyrol. Not an insurance policy for the future, a relation.

Disconcerted, he had to clear sudden emotion from his throat as he rose to shake Kasim’s hand. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Kasim darkened with a flush of pride and hitched his pants to sit again. “It’s very early days, only confirmed the day before we left Zhamair. Not something we’re making public.”